


you hear what you want (but you never wanted me)

by Shadowling-guistical (Hit_or_Mish)



Series: you hear what you want (but you never wanted me) [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Buried Alive, Character Death, Heavy Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Really Heavy Angst, Someone gets impaled, Virgil and Mary Lee were married for reasons currently unrevealed, mary lee - Freeform, unrequited anxceit, unrequited prinxiety - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29962896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hit_or_Mish/pseuds/Shadowling-guistical
Summary: He remembered their eyes. Longing yet so full of doubt that felt so foreign in their expression. The emotion that had felt out of place. That felt so, so wrong. Especially in how it left Logan’s lips bitten raw in a way that made Virgil want to ball his hands into fists. How it had upturned Roman’s eyebrows in a way that made Virgil's heart queasy. How it left Janus’ jaw set hard, and Remus’ manic smile turned into a pensive frown that was so unnerving that  Virgil wanted nothing more than to take them by the shoulders and shake some goddamn sense into them.Because fuck it, doubt was the one thing they never should have had.Perhaps that’s why Virgil, whose entire personality was the famous G-note personified, who was about as vibrant as a new moon meeting a monochrome rainbow, who had as much potential as a stationary ball, had settled to do the only thing he could. He’d push.But perhaps it was best if he had realized something sooner.(If you push too much, don't be surprised if there ends up being distance.)Or: Underneath concrete and rubble, Virgil Picani-Sanders reflect on his life, his family, and his friends.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dr. Emile Picani, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Series: you hear what you want (but you never wanted me) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203770
Comments: 11
Kudos: 16





	you hear what you want (but you never wanted me)

**_This is the way the world ends,_ **

**_This is the way the world ends,_ **

**_This is the way the world ends,_ **

**_Not with a bang, but with a whimper._ **

By now Virgil had long since left the bubble of poetry, novels, and theatre. He had buried it deep in his past with other memories of an abysmal and unremarkable college career. A college career that gave him nothing more but a disdain for purple prose, an eye to dissect sentences, and a degree that landed him a nondescript job at a nondescript office. Also, he can’t remember where, or even when he had read that excerpt. Was it during his Sophomore year? Junior year? And which class it was for, again? British Literature, or 20th century literature? Who even cares anymore. 

All he could think of was how _bullshit_ it was. 

Because it was with a bang when his world had suddenly flipped on its axis. 

It was with a bang that he felt concrete shift beneath his feet.

(“What the fuck was that?!”)

It was with a bang that he saw terror flit across a stricken face. 

(“Something’s wrong--”)

Before all he could see was danger and certain death. 

All he could think was whether he kissed Thomas and the kids goodbye that morning. Because _oh god, oh god oh god--_

It was with a bang, he saw the sky fall into heavy, broken pieces of concrete and dust.. 

Something must have had taken over his body then, because without him thinking about it, Virgil _moved_. 

(“LOOK OUT!”)

His body moved faster than that time when he saw Emile once lean back too much against his chair. Faster than that time when Patton had managed to climb over his cot at 3am and it was by pure chance Virgil had gotten up to fetch himself a glass of water.. Faster than the time when his quiet Saturday morning was broken by a mug shattering in the kitchen and a pained cry from his husband.

Faster than all of that, he moved and his hands reached out. 

And it was with a bang that he managed to rush forward and _push_ the man in front of him before he tumbled down into the depths of the earth below. The ground beneath his feet disappeared into nothingness, but at least Virgil had managed to get the person out of the way of the falling pieces of ceiling. 

Virgil's stomach swooped as he felt gravity pull him. He fell down, down, down, with none of Alice’s grace down the rabbithole, spinning heels over heads out of control and spiraling wildly. Bits of his ragged breath were practically beaten out of his lungs whenever he hit something hard and jagged with his back or limbs. He tried flailing, reaching out or catching something but everything whirled out of reach. Even his shouts were drowned out and turned to wheezing cries as he felt his senses blur in a cacophony of senses. 

He was practically free falling, down down down, into a sudden darkness as wind and screams rushed past his ears. By the point that something cracked deep in his ribs, Virgil knew that he was more ragdoll than human then. 

But perhaps, there was a merit to that short throwaway line from that poem he had forgotten a long time ago. Because when he finally hit the ground, pure, white agony bloomed along his body, top to bottom. Sudden and sharp enough that his senses flared like crashing cymbals meeting a clap of lightning. Pain lit his body aflame and all he could do was whimper before his vision went black. 

* * *

_(It had been his break time, and Remy had wanted nothing more than to slink to the pantry to get another refill of his coffee. He had just about walked into the room when he had spotted him sitting alone nursing a steaming mug and typing on a phone. They had hit it off, even if he wasn’t as much of a conversationalist as he was. He had smirked at his flirtatious advances, calling it ‘cute, but no thank you, ‘hon’.’ He didn’t push, but it was nice to talk to someone so freely like that, especially when he had spent the last few days-- his_ **_first_ ** _few days-- at the company on his best behavior. He even daresay that they were even on track to being friends._

_He had been seconds away from bestowing upon the man with the gift that was his name when it began._

_A sudden bang that had practically rippled the floor beneath their feet, making the tiles sway even if they were perhaps 5 floors above ground. There had been panic before everything went south. The last thing he realized was being shoved out of the way before there was a crash and he fell_ **_down, down, down_ ** _.)_

What woke him was the pressure around his leg. One so relentless that it was borderline painful. The pain and pressure had slowly built up until at one point, he had been unable to ignore it any longer. 

Remy groaned, slowly opening his eyes. 

He then blinked. Because huh, he might as well not bother opening them anyway. Everything was a dark pitch black, and he could barely see anything in front of him. He tried moving but again, there was that pressure on his leg, keeping him from moving it even just for an inch. He tried tugging at the damn thing, but he could only hiss in pain when it was obvious that whatever had pinned it down, isn’t going to budge anytime soon. Remy reached out a hand to try and grab a feel for whatever was pinning him down. It felt cool and hard. Scratched it with a nail, it felt almost metallic even. He tried pushing it off him. No luck there as well. 

By this point, panic was beginning to lap at the edges of his composure. And his stupid, stupid brain that apparently lacked the basic self preservation told him that _welp! Time to make like a coyote and start gnawing!_ And like he always did, he ignored his stupid, stupid brain. Because _leg gnawing is off the table, thank you very much._

Aside from that though, Remy felt thankful to realize that he was only pretty bruised. Sure, he felt even more sore than the time he decided that backflipping of a second storey balcony was a good idea, but something about this made him nervous. 

He had pummeled from the sky like the start of some cheesy pickup line, and only ended up with bruises?

Something...Something was definitely wrong. There was no way-- No _way_ \--

And that guy that had pushed him...Where...Where was he? 

“Hello?” He called out, only to suddenly cough when dust rushed into his lungs. He wiped the grime from his face. 

“Hell...hello…? You’re...Someones there…?” There was a wheeze before the owner of the voice had coughed out wetly.

The voice was weak, but familiar. The same voice that Remy had heard only moments earlier calling out to him in warning. Remy blinked, looking around for his phone. He fumbled with his pocket but realized that it must have dropped out somewhere in between his little descent. 

“I’m here,” Remy replied, “What’s going on? Where are we?”

“Base...Basement--I think? It was-- It was a long way...Way down,”

“What even happened?”

Whoever was there, they’re breathing pretty shallowly, like their lungs were struggling to even operate at full capacity. Like the air in the world had suddenly been stolen, like Remy had felt the wind knocked out of him when he was 14 and he missed the mattress after screwing up one of his pole vaults. 

“I don’t...I don’t..ah, _fuck_ ,”

Remy felt his stomach drop. That last curse sounded horrible. _Something wrong_ horrible. _I fucked up_ horrible. “Hon? You good? What’s wrong?”

Finally, blessedly, Remy’s fingers found something smooth and hard. Just beyond his fingertips, Remy gritted his teeth and shakily managed to pull it to him. Like a man finding his first oasis, Remy’s fingers shook as he tried sliding his phone open once, twice, and three times. It took another two times for his fingers to get the memo to _please calm the fuck down_ and for light to flood the dingy, dusty area. He would also probably have gotten it done faster if his phone didn;t feel so goddamn slick. What the fuck happened? Did a water pipe burst somewhere? It certainly doesn’t _feel_ like water. 

When Remy turned the flashlight to look for the person he spoke to, he felt bile rise in his throat. 

The man looked at Remy through half lidded eyes. Labored and out of breath, the man could only weakly glance at the small light in his peripheral vision. Remy didn’t need medical knowledge to know that he was half delirious with adrenaline and pain.

The only thing that was uttered from the man’s mouth was, before he coughed and hacked, “How bad-- How bad is i-it?”

* * *

**CLANG CLANG CLANGCLANG**

“Why..?”

The sudden word had dragged Virgil back to reality better than the relentless banging had. He was too exhausted to look at the person-- at the _man he saved_ \-- addressing him, and honestly even a little dazed to give an answer. But he replied nonetheless. 

“Why...Why what?” 

Virgil tried not to think about how breathless he felt. He heard the other man bang against the metal again, more frustrated this time. He wanted to wince, but soon found out the hard way that he should probably refrain himself from it. Each jolt of movement had sent electric currents of pain rippling down his spine and chased what little remains of his breath out of his lungs. 

He didn’t even have the strength to raise a hand. So his bangs that were plastered to his forehead stayed there, obscuring what little of the red tinted vision he already has. 

“Goddamnit you IDIOT-- Why did you-- Why did you push me out of the way!?”

_Why..?_

Virgil blinked blearily at the question. 

_Ah...Why indeed…_

* * *

_He remembered their eyes. Longing yet so full of doubt that felt so foreign in their expression. The emotion that had felt out of place. That felt so, so_ **_wrong_ ** _. Especially in how it left Logan’s lips bitten raw in a way that made Virgil want to ball his hands into fists. How it had upturned Roman’s eyebrows in a way that made Virgil's heart queasy. How it left Janus’ jaw set hard, and Remus’ manic smile turned into a pensive frown that was so unnerving that Virgil wanted nothing more than to take them by the shoulders and shake some_ **_goddamn sense_ ** _into them._

_Because fuck it, doubt was the one thing they never should have had._

_Because it’s_ **_them_ ** _._

_Who Virgil had known deep in his bones that they have more potential than the skies had stars. Who Virgil knew no words of the English language could be spun to describe just how much they left him in awe. Whose vibrant hues would make rainbows pale in comparison and nature envious. Who being around made Virgil’s heart make music so sweet that it left the Moonlight Sonata feeling like a child’s first scales in comparison._

_Them with their talents and their genius and their love--_

_Their high hopes that Virgil knew they could reach and crazy dreams that Virgil never thought were unattainable at all._

_Them with their everything._

_Because when it comes to them, there were never any doubts._

_Not for Virgil._

_Not for a single moment._

* * *

  
“I guess...It’s--...It’s because I’m used to it...Push-- Pushing people, I..I guess,”

“Push...People?”

Virgil chuckled before he coughed heavily. 

* * *

_Perhaps that’s why Virgil, whose entire personality was the famous G-note personified, who was about as vibrant as a new moon meeting a monochrome rainbow, who had as much potential as a stationary ball, had settled to do the only thing he could. He’d push._

_He’d push them to their dreams._

_To their goals._

_To the best version of themselves._

_...To each other._

_But perhaps it was best if he had realized something sooner._

_(If you push too much, don't be surprised if there ends up being distance.)_

_…_

_...Ah well. Not that it mattered what he knew back then anyway._

* * *

“Hey stop that-- try, try not to do anything that makes you move around,”

They were enveloped in a kind of darkness that was suffocating. Effortlessly oppressive even without the dust cloud threatening to make room in their bruised lungs and grime coated tongues.

Virgil felt dizzy, each inhale feeling like something was missing no matter how much he tried. His head felt heavy, and his body battered and broke. All he could do was stare up to whatever ceiling that was too dark to see but still somehow looked like it was spinning. It shouldn’t be too long since they had plummeted. But who knows? Certainly not him, disoriented enough to barely make things out in the dim room. 

But at least he had company. 

**_CLANG CLANG CLANG_ **

"Hey, Virgil? Vir—Virgil, right? That you say your name was? From HR?" 

"Yeah. Picani-Sanders. Virgil—” Virgil rasped, “Virgil Picani-Sanders"

"Okay. Call me— call me Remy hon. Finance. Considering— Considering we're both in this shitty situation,”

**_CLANG CLANG CLANG_ **

The loud sound of rock against metal pounded in his head again and again, bouncing around like echoes even during the pauses between each hit. Thoughts and sounds and pain fought for dominance in his brain, leaving him exhausted and disoriented.

“—it's just weird for you to call me anything else. Don't you— Don't you think so?"

Like wading through honey, Virgil tried his best to force his brain to make out the conversation the man-- _Remy, right, Remy-- Like Ratatouille that Patton and Emile had begged to watch last weekend even if they watched that every time they had a movie night_ \-- had tried to force him into.

"…Okay yeah. Yeah— Rems. Remy,” Virgil focused his eyes, trying to raise his head to get a good look at what Remy was doing.

"Good. Good. Fuck, okay. _I told you, don't move!--_ Do you—

Shit, what am I even saying— We need to keep you— Nevermind.”

**_CLANG CLANG_ **

A keening sort of noise died at the back of his throat as he let his head fall back against the dust. The clanging got worse and worse before he just settled to close his eyes and wished it was over. His head was throbbing. Each wave of pain was like a pulse threatening to split his head into two. Hell, at least when he was in the hospital years ago recovering from surgery, he had painkillers to help him…

But now....

Though, a part of him told him that it was okay. That he knew that any minute now, the pain will be over…

And hey, at least Thomas didn’t have to spend his days in the hospital this time around.

“Hey— Hey don't— _don't close your fucking eyes Virgil ,"_ Remy's tone was sharp, _"_ Stay with me. Stay with— Fuck. Okay— Okay. Just-- Talk to me, about your family, about your friends-- _Anything_ ," 

The words made Virgil drag open his eyes. He blinked, slowly and sluggishly. Ah...What did...What did he say?

It took a moment for the words to make sense in his brain. 

Friends, huh? 

He stifled a weak chuckle.

Like coming home, like putting on a familiar coat or listening to a song you know the words to by heart after so, so long, he thought about them.

(Who were music notes on a staff. Spray paint and glitter and Orion and and and--)

 _Friends._

Yes, they had called each other that once. Way back when they were still in their tiny little group at their tiny little town, worrying about tiny little things. Back when his world had only revolved around theatre productions or the library, around late nights at hilltops and early mornings in the kitchen.

Back when Virgil only ever felt happiness. 

That is, until one by one, they found other places to be. Places where Virgil himself had pointed them to like a compass point to true north. To other people that needed them more. To other solar systems to shine in. And thus Virgil’s world was left cold and alone.

Was he bitter? Maybe in this time, this place, and underneath all this rubble, he would be honest with himself to say that _shit, maybe he was._

He never did. And does he regret it? 

(...No. never.)

So instead, he answered Remy hoarsely.

"...Yeah, I had— I had friends," 

“Oh yeah? Did you like-- Like them a lot?”

* * *

_They used to be friends._

_They used to smile at him._

_They used to hold his hands._

_They used to call him Vee._

_(“Hey Vee!! Wanna go steal Steve Nerdwin’s glasses?”)_

_Remus was a megawatt presence, all manic eyes streaked with the same eyeshadow as Virgil’s own, a laugh that promised fun fun fun._

_When he left, there were shared lopsided grins. “Maybe you might find yourself, out there I mean,”. A suitcase with a broken wheel. Postcards torn at the edges and faintly smelling of gasoline._

_(“The stars? Would you like me to tell you about them, Vee?”)_

_Logan was ink and grass stained and streaked across fingertips. Being with him was the feeling of always being in awe, of being so small in the grand scheme of the universe, whom the stars had reflected in his lenses like diamonds._

_Before he left, Virgil remembered lips bitten enough to draw blood. Frustration and shouting out for Logan to “Never DARE think for a moment that you don't deserve the scholarship. Because you do,”. It had been waiting upon waiting for letters and more and more letters. Their end were long, sciency words that made no sense both individually nor in any sort of sentence._

_(“Ah, it’s you Vee. Good.)_

_(The Dragon Witch just gave me a new song to work on._

_Care to listen?”)_

_Janus was a quick flash of fangs. Lingering around him were the smell of old pianos and musty practise rooms like ghosts of the past that he spoke of as if they were friends. Always expect a little lie, and if you’re lucky enough to see it, a gentle touch of fingers on ivory and ebony piano keys. Who’s tongue had Mozart and Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev and Bartok slipping out as easily as backhanded compliments and wit._

_And when Janus didn’t think Virgil didn’t notice, a longing glance--thrown in secret. Whose urges to take, hold, and never let go of the things he likes were never as discreet as Janus thought it was. And in the end, it was Oh wait oh wait oh wait_ **_oh no_ ** _. And after, when the chips are down, a nudge._

_(“So, Vee, how did you like my performance?”)_

_Roman had a strong voice, who’s entire existence was dyed with the colour of roses and gold that shone brighter than any stagelight. He had the uncanny ability to deliver lines with a thump thump thump in time with a living, beating heart that can just whisk Virgil away._

_The fool was also all lovesick sighs carried by the winds when he thinks there were none blowing. His hands were always in a constant twitch as though there was an itch to reach out and grab someone, to hold him close. Where Virgil had realized Oh no oh no oh no_ **_oh wait._ ** _And then, when it was his cue, a push._

_(“VeeVee!”)_

_(“Vee?”)_

_(“_ **_Vee,_ ** _”)_

* * *

“They were...The best-- The best people I ever-- ever knew…”

 _And I_ **_loved_ ** _them._

(Virgil didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt like sobbing.) 

Oh god does he love them. In every iteration of the word, and in every way that word could ever mean in any version of the English language, he loves them. The kind of love that warranted letting them go. That warranted him to step back and let them live the lives that they were meant to have. Even if that means lives that he eventually had no part in. It had hurt, for a bit too long, but it was fine. 

Because what Logan called the First Law of Thermodynamics, Virgil had called inevitability. “ _Energy will neither be created nor destroyed, only converted from one form to another_ ”. What you invest in others will somehow find its way back to you.

And see, Virgil understood thermodynamics. If only because he heard Logan talk about it for so long. But he never experienced _inevitability_ before. Not really.

That is, not until Thomas.

Until finally, Thomas. 

* * *

_"Am I the only one that thinks this is totally weird?" Virgil kept tugging at the collar of his shirt. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. Sure he looked objectively good— One would say he "cleaned up well", even. But hell, the last time he looked remotely this fancy was his own damn wedding._

_"What, that your ex-wife so kindly asked her boyfriend to hook you up with a blind date?" Virgil squirmed, letting Mary Lee have a last cursory look at his outfit. He let her straighten out his collar and brush a spot on his shoulder, "Of course not! Lee said he's darling, you'll have a great time!"_

_"Mer—"_

_"Virge—" He felt her place her hands on his shoulders and squeezed. Virgil winced, wondering why it feels as if her hands were vices, "—Honey, I get that it's scary but..." He sees her expression soften, "You deserve to be happy too, yanno?"_

_"I am happy," automatically, the words tumbled from his mouth, "I have Emile and Patton. And you, me, and Lee have Brunch Tuesdays." He then frowned, "I thought you liked our Brunch Tuesdays?"_

_"I love our brunch Tuesdays," She reassured, "And, well, happier then. You deserve to be happier. I know you didn't get to see other people very much and well... Now that you're a bachelor..."_

_"Mer I didn't date when I was supposed to date," Virgil scoffed lightheartedly._

_"Well why not now? I met Lee!"_

_"Who's a catch by the way,"_

_"Thanks— Anyway, Lee vouched for him and it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to later," He let Mary hand him over his cologne, "And no worries about the kids— Let their mom spend a lil time with them and you just go have a nice dinner, okay?"_

_"And you're sure he knows about—“_

_“No worries he knows about everything. There will be no surprises on both of your ends,"_

_"Good," Virgil solemnly nodded, "I just... I don't want him to talk shit about Emile and Pat,"_

_"He won't! At least, that's what Lee said," At least the reassurance had elevated almost all of his stress about the blind date, "Now finish up and I'll see you later,"_

_"Thanks Mer. And thank Lee for me too," Virgil called out as he left his bedroom, closing the door behind her. He presumed she was going to go and keep their sons busy so that he could make a silent getaway from the house without fuss or questions._

_He still sighed though, playing with the cuffs of his shirt once more._

_He really couldn't blame Mary Lee or Lee for trying. As reluctant as he was to admit it, she had a point. What harm can a single blind date do? He'd just go, meet this guy, make small talk, share some dessert and if nothing else comes out of it, at least Virgil had time out of the house for a night._

_Now what’s left is to hope this Thomas Sanders guy wouldn’t turn out to be some serial axe killer._

* * *

(That was the point Virgil did almost sob)

If Virgil had felt happiness with his friends, with Thomas it...It was…

It was like being **whole.**

It was different, from the happiness he felt with Roman, with Janus and Logan and Remus. With Thomas, it was a happiness that made his soul feel rich and full. Being around him, _with him_ , made every bone in Virgil’s body _thrum_ like someone had plucked the strings of his soul. He was a melody finally finding his harmony. 

And when Thomas had proposed that night, in their living room with a ring just the right size for him and smiling like the dork he was, it was...Resonance. 

Janus had once explained the concept of resonance to Virgil. Where a note vibrates at the same frequency as something and with all of the shaking it would shatter. That was how it felt when Thomas asked Virgil to marry him. Except, instead of shattering, it felt like all the broken pieces of him had shaken themselves into place and he was finally whole again. The feeling of the ring on his finger was like chords being played in tandem, reaching a perfect cadence that ended their love story with a beautiful happy ending. 

* * *

_"Virgil, right? Mary Lee's friend?"_

_Virgil hoped that the guy didn't see his ears burning in the light of the restaurant. He drummed his fingers nervously, trying to stall the urge to fan himself. Because_ **_Holy crap the guy's adorable_ **

_"Yeah, Thomas, right?"_

_"Right," He had taken a seat, and the way the guy was smiling nervously set off sparklers in Virgil's stomach._

_Happy ones. Warm ones that glowed and exploded in a dazzling light. Ones that reminded him of the fireworks Remus managed to smuggle into Logan’s backyard one summer night. But strangely, this was...different._

_"I'm sorry, were you waiting long?" Thomas had enquired him, before he even touched the menu, "I didn't mean to make you wait— it's just— I often come too early sometimes and it's weird so I thought of setting out a little later but then there's traffic—"_

_Oh good! The guy's just as much of an awkward mess as he was!_

_"—No worries!" Virgil reassured, only slightly panicking, "I'm— I'm the same way. You're cool. You're—" If before, it was his ears, now Virgil felt the warmth spread down to the back of his neck, "You're cool, actually,"_

_"Oh um, thank you?" Thomas chuckled, "You know, I— I didn't know what to expect when Lee set this... This whole thing up. But..." He shrugged weakly, "I think I'm okay with this?"_

_Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, which felt similar to the time that he fell asleep on his honeymoon on one of the chairs and had that terrible sunburn, "Uh... Same— Gosh Mer's gonna be so smug— I think— I think I'm okay with—"_

_(you)_

_“—it, too,"_

_And gosh, that dorky, dopey smile is going to be the death of him—_

_"Well then," He sees Thomas raise a glass, and Virgil couldn't help but laugh because it's only complimentary water but it was okay. Who cares if it's only water when here he was, feeling as if he's made out champagne bubbles and fireworks on summer nights, "To?"_

_The grin on his face was starting to make his cheeks hurt. But Virgil gently knocked his glass of water with Thomas' with a gentle clink. Virgil suggested the toast after a moment, "To pleasant surprises,"_

_He sees Thomas' eyes, (a gorgeous shade of brown, if he might add) light up, "To pleasant surprises,"_

_At the end of the night, Virgil pretended not to act as disappointed as he felt when they finally parted ways. Time had felt very short, passing by in a whirr of conversation, laughter, and red wine. It had been nice, Virgil had talked about his children, to which Thomas had responded fondly. Thomas had talked about his students. and Virgil found himself charmed._

_But hey, at least he had a gentle kiss pressed to his hand from Thomas to remember him by._

_And believe him, he probably will remember Thomas._

_(They had a second date scheduled for not even a week later.)_

* * *

Or at least, Virgil had thought. Until today. Until now.

But fuck, Thomas with his warm eyes, with his laugh that was like summer breezes who had taken him by the hand and never really let go. Pressed kisses against them that felt like spots of sunshine and fresh rain. Who made hot chocolate for Emile on their stargazing nights and cuddled with Patton whenever the little one had nightmares about hospitals and _never coming home._

The first person who called Virgil _his_ \-- and made Virgil actually believe it with his heart and soul. 

He had taken one look at him and somehow decided that Virgil, with his sons and his anxiety and everything else, was worth pursuing. It was then, and only then that Virgil realized he had changed from someone worth returning to, to someone worth _staying for._

And ever since, ‘stay’ Thomas did. 

He stayed, through periods of courtship. Through the shy smiles and ice cream dates. Through getting to know his sweet, precious, lovely boys.

Because of course the first thing Virgil hoped for was that Thomas and his sons get along.

And then through moving boxes after boxes into U-hauls and gripes about colleagues and apathetic students. Through cake testing and tux fittings and wedding planning. Through mornings so busy that all they could share were kisses tasting of coffee and mint before they had to herd their sons out of the door to school.

(Through bills and shaking hands. Through nights where he thought everything would come crashing down when he wakes up in the morning. Through the long stays at the hospital and sombre and sympathetic doctors. Through the haze of painkillers and medication and post-op pain.)

_**O no! it is an ever-fixed mark** _

_**That looks on tempests and is never shaken;** _

Thomas had stayed. And like the sonnets Virgil had read but never really liked as much as Roman or Logan did, he had never wavered in the storm of medical tests and insurance paperwork. Thomas was unfaltering through the hurricane of uncertainty and desperation. And because of that, Virgil found himself falling more and more in love with each passing day.

So yes. It was fine. More than fine, even. He finally got back what he had invested in, somehow, in one form or another. He had found his soulmate.

And he had been happy.

* * *

_(“Come with me Vee. Please? You and Emile both,”)_

_(“I don’t want to lose you,”)_

_(“We’ll make it work somehow,”)_

_(“I love you, Virgil,”)_

* * *

He hoped that Thomas was happy too. He had been...right? Because...Hey...He did the right thing, right…? He did okay, he was pretty sure. 

Even if...Even if he didn’t know if he’ll be coming home that day. Whether he’ll find himself in his husband’s arms again at the end of the day. Whether he’ll be with the kids and watch cartoons with them and read them their bedtime stories. 

Even if he really, really wanted to. 

And god. He really, really, wanted to.

He wanted...He wanted to say that he was sorry... That he was sorry that Thomas had married an idiot that has no sense of self preservation.... He was sorry... That his hands and legs just moved... He was sorry... Because he didn’t think they had that long left... That he knew...He knew he knew he knew that he promised Thomas for as long as it'll be. And that Virgil knew that... this is the probably end of the line for him.

He began to wonder whether Thomas was really, truly happy with him. Whether even for just a moment, Virgil managed to make Thomas as happy as he made him. He wondered whether he was a good husband to him. He wondered whether he had been a good father to Emile and Patton. Sweet, Patton and darling Emile. Both so young to have faced the hardship that they had. Virgil prayed that he did good on them. On Thomas. 

He knew he could have done better. Be a better father, Be a better husband. 

Virgil laughed, low and guttural, drowned out by the clang of rock against metal. Remy was babbling, but it had been a while since Virgil made head or talk about what he was saying. 

He never did learn how to cook steaks properly for their date nights. He always overcooked or undercooked them no matter how hard he tried. But he was lucky that Thomas had laughed and ate them anyway, calling it perfect. Sometimes, he forgets that Thomas and Patton had allergies and he hugged them after petting a stray cat anyway. But he was lucky that they had giggled through their sneezes and kissed his cheek anyway. He had to be mean sometimes, forcing Emile to attend his dialysis appointments anyway, despite how much Emile had cried and complained about the pain and discomfort. Despite how much he argued and how he had to be the bad guy, hurting Emile like that and essentially forcing Patton to take a back seat. It broke his heart every single time. But he was lucky that Emile had held his hand anway, apologizing and saying that _it’s okay dad..I know you just want me to feel better._

God, he was happy. He was the happiest man on earth and it was thanks to Thomas and the kids and if... If even despite his flaws, Virgil was able to make Thomas feel a fraction of happiness he made him feel...Then…

Virgil didn’t think he was that scared anymore. 

That he has no regrets except for maybe leaving as early as he was going to.

But maybe...Could he be selfish one last time? Because he hoped, wished, prayed for Thomas to please look after Emilly and Patton for him. They were still so small. They need their dad. They needed...They needed Thomas. They still needed Thomas’ love. Even if Thomas finds some other guy later on. Even if the rando swept him off his feet and thought he was the most beautiful man on the planet. He wanted Thomas to _please, still love them for me._

Is that okay?

At the end of the day, when sunlight has finally dimmed and the stars start to twinkle, he was just….thankful. 

He was thankful he was loved. Thomas had loved him. Pat did... Emile did... Mary Lee and Lee did too... And... And he thinks... He hopes... Roman and Janus did too... And Remus... And Logan. He was…

He was so thankful for that... So thankful that even now... Especially now…

* * *

"Oh fuck— Oh fuck no VIRGIL!!!"

It was silent.

It had turned silent and stupid, stupid Remy didn’t even realize when it became that way. Because sometime in between his rambling to keep Virgil awake and him banging on the metal to alert first responders, Virgil’s wheezing breath had stopped. 

Virgil had quietly slipped away and he didn’t even fucking realize. 

At that point, Remy stopped caring.

"VIRGIL!— NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! VIRGIL!!!!"

He clawed, banged and stroked against the metal that pinned him down. He was almost feral, manic as he tried to get himself free. Because Virgil had stopped breathing and he needed to do something about it—

Something, anything!!

“UP!! UP!! YOU GOTTA WAKE UP VIRGE!!” His voice was hysteric, and all Remy could think about was _oh god, oh god he had a kid-- He had fucking kids and a husband and_ — _and_ —

_Remy fucking killed him._

_“_ RISE AND— AND—” His voice broke, “And-- And shine. Fuck,,Fuck Vigil please...Please wake up...Please...PLEASE--”

(Shattered, like Virgil’s body laying on the bloody concrete with rebars poking through it. Shattered, like Virgil’s family is now that Remy had taken him from them.

Shattered Shattered _Shattered._ )

By some miracle, Remy hears them coming. Even when he had screamed himself hoarse. Even after his hands bled as he tried to crawl towards Virgil to _help goddamnit— he needs help—_ , he still hears them managing to move enough debris from above them.

They got to him first. Despite his cries. Despite him outright begging them to stop. To _Check on Virgil first please— oh god oh god he had a family--_ They still got to him first, asking stupid questions and checking stupid things. And Remy wanted to scream, to hit and to curse because _fuck, can’t they see Virgil just lying there?!_

It feels like an eternity later of him begging before one of them finally, finally gets to Virgil. Before they finally—

_Wait-- Wait no no no no--_

He sees the First Responder that had examined Virgil look up, before they shook their head. And immediately, Remy felt his blood roar in his ears like the tide. But it also could be his voice, shouting out in both alarm and desperation. 

_wait... Wait no— wait— what are you doing?! Help him! help him!! GODDAMNIT DON'T JUST STAND THERE HELP HIM!!!_

And as they placed a black tag around Virgil's dangling wrist, all Remy could do was _scream_.

* * *

Somewhere in Paris, Roman stumbled into Janus after their second bottle of champagne, both dissolving into fits of giggles. 

They melded into a kiss and basked in each other’s presence. Because life was good.

* * *

Somewhere in Malaysia, Remus had looked out the window, soaking in the blue sky that seemed too perfect to be real. Somehow, he smells rain even when there’s no cloud in the sky. 

He smiled, and returned back to his laptop to continue working on his book. Because life was good.

* * *

Somewhere in Maryland, Logan had peered through his telescope, for the sky tonight had been clear and wonderful. 

He unlatched himself from the eyepiece and poured over his charts with a content hum. Because life was good.

* * *

Somewhere underneath layers of grime, concrete and blood, Virgil Picani-Sanders had died.

Knowing that, yes. Life had been good. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Greenninjagal, Ptolomeia and Fangirlwriting for helping me with this for MONTHS AND MONTHS. Without them, this will never turn out as good as it did!
> 
> Also thanks to RomanPepsi from the TSS Fanworks Collective for providing the title for me to fill!


End file.
